He died.

I’m not going to write something original today. I just saw this film, kiddie, yet I really like that movie!

M.Magorium: (in a quiet sigh) oh, Mahoney…
Mahoney: Don’t go.
M.Magorium: My darling
Mahoney: I’m not ready, I’m not ready for it to end.
M.Magorium: I’m sorry.
(Mahoney sits down a step)

When King Lear dies in Act Five do you know what William Shakespeare has written? He’s written, He Dies.
That’s all, nothing more. No fan fare, no metaphor, no brilliant final words.
The culmination of the most influential work of the dramatic literature is, He Dies. It takes Shakespeare’s genius to come up with, he dies.
And yet every time I read those two words I find myself overwhelmed with dysphoria.
And I know its only natural to be sad, but not because of the words he dies, but because of the life we saw prior to the words.
I’ve lived all five of my acts Mahoney and I am not asking you to be happy that I must go.
I’m only asking that you turn the page. Continue reading. And let the next story begin.
And if anyone ever asks what became of me you relay my life in all its wander, and it with a simple, and modest, he died.

-from Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium

The Black Book

So I saw this video randomly by a good indie filmmaker…

hahaha… and it also got me thinking, oh yeah, what if I die today?

I suddenly remembered the key-holed black book I have bedside (a.k.a. my diary)… when I die, I want that published! (haha!) not that I want everything that is in it (sheesh). some entries are even undone, but this is just so to fulfill my dream to publish my own book. (masabi lang)

So there, just a quick thought. I hope my family reads this when I die.

You wonder, will it be the same, then.

While waiting for my friend, me and my other friend decided to look through pictures over the internet for wedding dresses. Giddily picking up on, clicking, and clicking… No wait…

No, of course not! Im not getting married.

While the thought of getting married is far off my mind, I am still a woman who also thinks about how I wish mine would be when I’m finally willing to be there.

I have already thought of three perfect settings. But actually two might do, as long as one would be at the church and one would be at the beach where everyone is freely dressed with uninhibited dancing to funky music! Just in pure good vibes.

The wedding gown for the church would be much of a paradox. Simple yet very detailed. I don’t want a petticoat-styled dress nor those heavy looking gowns packed with laces all over. A simple straight dress with cute tiny details embroidered, a tiny belt to accent – of contrast color – maybe black or yellow is what I want. I haven’t found any picture that resembles what I want, but the picture in my mind is very vivid! Arte! I don’t want the thing that’s covering the face. What’s it called? I want the hair to dabble freely with maybe a tiny flower or sort of tiara-like-tinee put on at the top. The flower I will be holding, will be really something. I don’t mind sharing my beauty with it. Haha! It will have its own story in itself. That beautiful! I love flowers. The wedding will be packed with greens. It would be really something, the potted arrangements, I swear. I don’t want a flashy wedding. Every piece that will be placed has a meaning, every detail counts, and it must have a connection to both our lives and is not just there because it’s beautiful or a fad. It’s there because it deserves to be a part of.

I’m not much of planner and I am sure tiny details might get changed or get tweaked, but that’s how I picture it at this very moment.

A fluky post.